And before Uncle Wiggily knew what was happening the busy bug had run in, got the keys, opened the front door of the groundhog’s house. Then she flew in, and she began dusting it. My! what a dust she raised. Uncle Wiggily had to sneeze, there was so much of it.
And the funny part of it was that the house was already just as neat and clean as a piece of cocoanut or custard, or maybe even apple pie.
“Don’t fuss any more with it,” said Uncle Wiggily. “It will do very well as it is.”
“Oh, it must be made cleaner,” said the busy bug, and she swept and dusted until Uncle Wiggily sneezed again. Then the bug dusted a little more, and at last she said the house was in pretty fair shape and Uncle Wiggily could sleep there.
Then the busy bug flew back home and she kept busy up to nine o’clock, making beds and dusting the crumbs off the mantelpiece and picking up grains of sand off the floor. Then she went to sleep.
Well, along in the middle of the night Uncle Wiggily was awakened by hearing some one talking under his window. He looked out, and there were two savage old owls.
“Now, we’ll fly right in through her window,” said one owl, “and we’ll eat her all up, and then we’ll tear her house down.”
And, would you believe it, they started right toward the house of the poor busy lady bug, who was fast asleep.
“Ha! This must never be!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “I must save her. How can I do it?” So he looked around, and he saw a broom, which the busy bug had left behind when she finished sweeping. “That will do!” cried the rabbit. He took it in his paws and, leaning out of the window, he held it just as if it was a gun, and cried:
“Now, you bad owls, fly away or I’ll shoot all your feathers off! Fly away and don’t you harm my friend, the busy lady bug!”
Well, sir, those owls were so frightened, thinking that Uncle Wiggily was going to shoot them with the broom-gun (only, of course, they didn’t know it was only a broom), and, would you believe it, they were terribly afraid and they flew off into the dark woods, and so didn’t eat up the busy bug after all, and she slept in peace and quietness, never even waking up, she was so tired after being busy all day.
Then Uncle Wiggily went back to bed, and the owls didn’t disturb him again that night. And in the morning the busy bug got his breakfast and thanked him when he told her about scaring the owls away with the make-believe broom-gun.
Uncle Wiggily traveled on, and soon he had another adventure. What it was I’ll tell you almost right away, when, in case the cake of ice doesn’t melt, and make a mud puddle for the baby to fall into, I’ll tell you about Uncle Wiggily and the funny monkey.
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE FUNNY MONKEY
It was a bright and beautiful sunshiny day, and Uncle Wiggily was hopping along the road, thinking many thoughts and about the busy bug and the black cricket and all things like that and how hard it was to look and look for your fortune and never find it, when all of a sudden, just as he happened to put his crutch down on a round stone, it slipped, and down he fell kerthump.